Three generations
by Wingsister Miri
Summary: Minerva McGonagall has been teaching at Hogwarts for a long time. While she was there, she saw three generations of Potters share their first kiss with their future spouse.


Three generations

Minerva McGonagall was strolling along the grounds, heading towards the other side of the lake. She usually took a walk in the evenings. She was of the firm conviction that regular exercise was important, especially to people like her, who taught indoors all day. Keeping the body fit also kept the mind in shape.

She was planning on rounding the lake before returning to her quarters. She had come almost halfway when she slowed down. She could hear voices up ahead and didn't want to risk disturbing any of her students. They were always shocked to see a teacher outside of the classrooms and corridors.

She proceeded more slowly until she could see figures through the trees. The voices were getting louder, shouting almost, arguing fiercely with each other. Or bickering, more likely. Ah, she might have guessed. She could see Lily Evans' bright red hair now. It must be the Head Girl and Head Boy then. They were always fighting, though they did manage to discharge their duties surprisingly efficiently. It was the only reason Minerva hadn't said anything about their little feud yet.

Minerva was just debating how best to go around them when suddenly silence fell.

Well, not quite silence. Minerva could hear quiet sighs and clothes rustling and yes, the sounds of kissing.

Well, well, well. What an interesting development. Like Dumbledore always said, love could blossom in the strangest places. Even between a Head Boy and the Head Girl who supposedly hated him.

Smiling, she walked back the way she came. Best to let them get on with it undisturbed. They would be so embarrassed if they knew she had caught them, and if they stopped fighting now, it could only make for a more peaceful atmosphere at Hogwarts.

Minerva McGonagall was sitting at her desk, looking out of her office window over the Hogwarts grounds.

The Quidditch Cup was sitting on her desk, freshly polished and glinting in the sun. She was proud of her House. They had beaten Slytherin soundly, even with Ginny Weasley replacing Harry Potter as Seeker. He had trained his team well, despite there being many new players this year. But then the foolish boy had gotten himself detention during the most important game of his school Quidditch career.

Well, it didn't matter now. Gryffindor had won and she was sure there was a raucous party going on in the Common Room right now. She would need to go check on them soon, but for now she could still enjoy the sunset by the window while they enjoyed the Butterbeer they thought she didn't know about. As long as this sort of behaviour only happened after Quidditch victories, she was prepared to let them be.

The professor was almost startled when she saw figures moving out of the lengthening shadow of the castle into the last red rays of sunlight that were making the lake glitter and gleam.

She was even more surprised when she recognised Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley, who were strolling towards the lake, apparently holding hands and talking animatedly. She assumed Miss Weasley was giving him a blow by blow description of the match. It had been a particularly exciting one and as Quidditch House Captain, Mr. Potter needed to hear all about it.

The couple sat down in the shade of a weeping willow by the water's edge and busied themselves with more personal pursuits. So that was how it was. She would need to check if Mr. Potter sported a black eye tomorrow, after all, Miss Weasley had a lot of very protective brothers, even if only one of them was at Hogwarts right now.

Minerva McGonagall turned away from the window, smiling. Good for them, she thought. They both deserved some happiness in these dark times and Miss Weasley was a practical sort of girl who would not let Mr. Potter wallow in guilt about his godfather any longer. The poor boy already thought he had to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders; he didn't need to make it worse by constantly questioning his every step. She would be good for him, especially if she could make him laugh, Minerva thought.

With a melancholy sigh, she started tidying away the things on her desk, stroking the Cup lovingly. Gloating to Severus tomorrow was really beneath her, but maybe making just a little pointed remark would be justified...

It had been a familiar sight, the bright red hair and the jet black bent together in young love by the lake shore. She had not thought she would be so startled by it, but she was. If they could be half so much in love as his parents had been, they would be fine together.

Lily and James would be proud of you, Harry, she thought. Now all our energy and ingenuity must go towards making sure you don't suffer your parents' fate.

Minerva McGonagall was sitting in the stands, cheering on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. She had come up to the school for the day to watch the match against Ravenclaw. While she still lived close by, in Hogsmeade, she didn't get to watch her old House play as often as she would have liked.

She had gotten a seat on the top row by force of being the former Headmistress. Young James Potter had just scored a goal for the Red-and-Golds and she was still clapping when she was abruptly thrown back into the past.

In the row in front of her, a young couple was wrapped in a tight embrace. The girl had jumped up to cheer her brother on, and when he had scored, she had kissed the boy next to her in jubilation. He looked back at the girl, gobsmacked, before kissing her back enthusiastically.

She would recognise that bright red hair anywhere. This must be Harry Potter's daughter, Lily. Now that she looked closer, she could see that while Lily was the spitting image of her grandmother, except for the eyes, which she had gotten from her mother, the boy's hair was more dark brown than jet black and his eyes were silvery gray like his mother's.

This she recognised as young Lysander Scamander, who had surprised everyone by being sorted into Gryffindor despite the fact that his twin brother and his parents were all Ravenclaws. Minerva made a point of keeping up to date on all the promising new Gryffindors.

Well, well, well. This was the third generation of Potters she had seen fall in love at Hogwarts. It was always nice to see tradition being carried on.

With that thought, she turned back to the match just in time to see young Rose Weasley make a spectacular save. She cheered. Gryffindor's chances for the Quidditch Cup were good this year.

All was as it should be in Minerva McGonagall's world.


End file.
